The Savior: Book One
by XxLellian Black-GryffindorXx
Summary: During Middle Earth's darkest hours, when Arda needs her most, a savior shall arise and bring with her a light all her own. In this case, Ithilwen finds herself in Thorin's company in order to fulfill her destiny while doing her best to keep Bilbo and the Durin line alive. (I DO NOT OWN TOLKIEN! JUST MY OC! Written in place of my other Hobbit story cause this is better than that.)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 _TA 2770_

As Thranduil stood watching the Dwarves flee the mountain, he gripped the reins of his Elk tightly. Piercing blue eyes landing on the young Dwarf prince calling out for his help. But glancing behind him, Thranduil knew he could not risk the lives of his people for a lost cause against the fire drake. With a heavy heart, the Elven King turned away from the scene below and called for his people to head back to Greenwood the Great. The journey back to his kingdom was silent and mournful of the fall of a mighty kingdom. And though some of the Elves may have mourned the losses Dale and Erebor suffered, Thranduil was mourning his chance at ever reclaiming the white gems of starlight that now laid in the Smaug's treasure horde. Alas, there was hope. For as he thought of these precious gems, the Lady Galadriel's words from a meeting this summer past were brought to light. In a hundred and seventy-seven years, an elleth would be chosen by the Valar in a time when she was needed most. Such a wait was nothing to an Elf. And wait he would. A hundred and seventy-seven years would pass quickly for his kin. Yet elsewhere, at this precise moment, in the safety of the Golden Woods, the cries of a newborn elfling echo through Lothlorien. Lifting the spirits of the Elves who reside there. Elflings were a rare blessing. And to hear the cries of a newborn elfling was heartwarming for the Elves. For one day, the sound of these cries would become innocent laughter with precious smiles the elfling grew and ran about the safe haven of the forest. Unaware of the fate that awaited her once she was older.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Inn of the Prancing Pony**

 _TA 2941, 15 March_

Ithilwen slowly awoke to a sliver of moonlight flitting in and out of her vision. A chilly spring breeze against her skin. Inhaling deeply, her blue eyes fluttered open and looked about curiously as she sat up. She had taken refuge in a tree for a brief rest just outside of Bree. A village of men. Climbing down, she paused at a source of water to scoop a handful of the cool water into her hands. Splashing it on her face. Ithilwen shook her head and looked at her reflection. Pale and fair skinned. White hair that flowed to the middle of her back. Stunning blue eyes. She was a beauty to behold in Lothlorien, the forest home she had left behind when the Lady Galadriel had chosen to send her out to meet with Mithrandir. The Istari required her help, and Ithilwen was eager to give it. And though it had been a long journey here, Ithilwen had managed to make good time with her arrival. Getting to her feet, Ithilwen pulled up her hood and briskly walked into the village. Keeping her head down, she avoided bumping into anyone while she made her way to the Prancing Pony.

Walking into the establishment, Ithilwen scanned the noisy crowd of drunks and scoundrels for Mithrandir. Instead her eyes find a bald, suspicious-looking man watching another. Following his line of sight, Ithilwen finds that his gaze is settled on a man who seems shorter than everyone else. She looks to his left and sees another shady character watching him as well. The two men stand up and move towards him when Mithrandir suddenly brushes past her towards their target. Dragging her along with him as they come to stand in front of the table. Mithrandir moved to take a seat across from the stranger while she kept her eyes on the approaching men. Ithilwen's hand gripping tight to the hilt of her Galadhrim sword. "Mind if I join you?" As the wench passes by, Mithrandir catches her sleeve. "I'll have the same."

With a satisfied look, Ithilwen watched the suspicious men back away as Mithrandir spoke to the stranger. "I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey."

"I know who you are." The strange said. Acknowledging Gandalf.

"Well now! This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland. I went looking, and found no sign of him."

"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain."

"He still lives; I am sure of it." Gandalf looked up as Ithilwen moved aside while the waitress set his platter of food in front of him. "My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the Dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland." Thorin picked up his mug and drinks from it contemplatively.

"This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?" Ithilwen gave a small smirk under her hood.

"No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor. I ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond." Ithilwen chuckled and glanced at Gandalf.

"I imagine they regretted that." She said.

"One of them was carrying a message." Ithilwen turned to face the table as Gandalf lays down a dirty piece of cloth with a message and a picture of the Lonely Mountain drawn on it upon the table and pushes it toward Thorin. "It is Black Speech." Thorin, who had been staring in shock at Ithilwen the moment she spoke, turned his attention back to Gandalf quickly and reached forward to take the message before he warily pulls his hand away. "Promise of payment."

"For what?" Thorin questioned. Though he felt as if he already knew the answer.

"Your head. Someone wants you dead." Came Ithilwen's voice again. _Least now I understand why I am here._ She thought. Realizing now that Mithrandir needed her help to keep the line of Durin safe. _But why does it still feel like it is something more than that?_

"He did not mention you were a woman." Thorin said, glancing at her. Ithilwen merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Thorin," he looked back to Gandalf, "you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the Dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oaths."

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone! It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug." Thorin and Gandalf look up as the two shady men from before rise and leave together, looking back over their shoulders at Thorin and Gandalf only to find Ithilwen watching them and slowly drawing her sword. Giving them initiative to get a move on even faster.

"What if I were to help you to reclaim it?" Gandalf asked once they had left and Ithilwen relaxed.

"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon."

"Yes, it does, which is why we are going to need a burglar."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Good Morning**

 _TA 2941, 25 April_

 _Nearly a month since my arrival, and twenty nine days since our first visit, Mithrandir and I were paying a second visit to The Shire. Bag End to be precise. Mithrandir was convinced that Mr. Bilbo Baggins was just the halfling Thorin's company needed._

Upon approaching Bag End, Ithilwen could spot their chosen burglar sitting within his garden outside. Bilbo Baggins. With his pipe in his mouth, and his eyes closed, Bilbo blew out a smoke ring that collapsed and became a butterfly of smoke. No doubt this was Mithrandir's doing. Fascinated, she watched as the butterfly flies into Bilbo's face, waking him from his reverie. He looks up in surprise to two strangers standing before him. "Good morning."

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish us a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether we want it or not?" Mithrandir asked, leaning against a staff. Ithilwen shook her head in amusement. Her snow white hair fanning out behind her. "Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

"All of them at once, I suppose." Ithilwen arched a brow as Mithrandir looks at Bilbo with slight disapproval, while Bilbo merely stares on confused and bewildered by the response he had received. "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." Mithrandir muttered.

"We're looking for someone to share in an adventure." Ithilwen spoke.

"An adventure?" Bilbo chuckled disapprovingly. "Now, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner, hm, mm."

Bilbo gets up and checks his mailbox, grabbing some mail and sorting through it, clucking to himself. He looks quite uncomfortable because Mithrandir and Ithilwen are still standing there. Puffing his pipe in vexation, he begins heading back inside. "Good morning."

"To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were selling buttons at the door."

"Beg your pardon?" Bilbo asked, baffled.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo shook his head and approached the strangers again. Taking a closer look at the old man.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I am Ithilwen of Lothlorien."

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means…" He trailed off.

"You." Ithilwen chuckled.

"Gandalf...not Gandalf, the wandering Wizard, who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Ha, ha! Well. Hmm, I had no idea you were still in business."

"And where else should I be?"

"Ha, ha! Hm, hmm..." Ithilwen laughed with the halfling.

"It seems you were not expected here." She said as Bilbo puffs confusedly on his pipe

"Well, I'm pleased to find your remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks. Well that's decided. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who? What? No. No. No! Wait. We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not-mm. I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water. Good morning." Bilbo, in frustration, retreats into Bag End, gesturing at Gandalf with his pipe. Ithilwen placed her hands on her hips as she looked at Gandalf.

"Well that went well," she said, following him up to Bilbo's door where Gandalf draws a glowing symbol on the round green door with the end of his staff. "What have you just drawn?" She questioned.

"A sign for the company." Gandalf muttered as he peered into the wood on the side of the house. Chuckling as he startled the poor Hobbit inside. "Ithilwen, my dear, I fear I must ask you to wait here for my return."

"Your return? Where is it you are going now?"

"To find other members of the company and bring them here!" He called, hurrying away.

Ithilwen watched him till his figure was no longer in her line of sight. Sighing, the she-elf looked back at the Hobbit Hole and shook her head before climbing atop the hill and perching herself there. Figuring it best to not disturb the poor Hobbit more than she and Gandalf already had.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Unexpected Party Part 1**

 _TA 2941, 26 April_

In Bag End, the night of the twenty-sixth of April, Ithilwen watched Bilbo prepare a dinner of fish. A meal she had kindly declined when the Hobbit had talked her into coming inside. Poor Bilbo had been quite startled to find the she-elf had settled herself above the hill the previous night. He felt rather ashamed he had not known she was there sooner. His mother raised him better. As he settles down at his table, tucking a napkin into his collar, he asked Ithilwen questions about Lothlorien and her kin as he begins sprinkling salt on his fish. Bilbo, in the middle of squeezing lemon juice on his fish while Ithilwen described a picture of the Golden Woods, looks up in surprise as the doorbell rings. He glances at Ithilwen, who shrugs innocently at him. Taking the napkin out of his collar, he abandons his food to answer the door. Ithilwen follows him halfway to the door. Pulling the hood of her cloak up to hide her ears, as Gandalf had advised her to do. She watches him open the door from the shadows of the home. A tall, bald Dwarf now stands before Bilbo on his doorstep. The Dwarf greets him and bows slightly. "Ah."

"Dwalin, at your service." Shocked, Bilbo lets out a noise like a whimper. Ithilwen muffles her chuckle behind her hands. Coming to his senses, Bilbo quickly ties his robe tighter and stands taller, although he is still confused.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours." He says. Stumbling back as Dwalin walks inside without an invitation. Ithilwen expertly moves about to keep out of sight. "D-do we know each other?"

"No. Which way, laddie? Is it down here?"

"I-is what down where?" Dwalin dumps some of his stuff on the ground and thrusts the rest into poor Bilbo's arms.

"Supper. He said there'd be food, and lots of it."

"H-He said? Who said?" Dwalin sits at Bilbo's spot at the kitchen table. Eating Bilbo's dinner, while the Hobbit himself sits behind him. Confused. Ithilwen shudders and looks on with disgust as Dwalin eats all the flesh from the fish, then eats the head as well.

"Mmmm. … Very good, this. Any more?"

"What? Uh, oh, yes, yes." He hands Dwalin the other plate he had made.

"Ah."

"Help yourself." Bilbo brings over a plate of biscuits and hurriedly hides two behind his back for himself and Ithilwen. Dwalin begins stuffing them in his mouth. "Mmmm. It's just that, um, I wasn't expecting company." The bell rings again, and Bilbo looks up in alarm. Dwalin pauses in his eating to look up at Bilbo.

"That'll be the door." Shaking his head, Bilbo hurries off to answer the door. Ithilwen, once again, staying out of his way.

Answering the door, Bilbo finds an old, white-haired Dwarf waiting on the other side. The Dwarf turns back and bows once he sees he's been noticed. "Balin, at your service."

"Good evening." Bilbo said, a bit baffled at the presence of another Dwarf on his door step.

"Yes, yes it is, though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

"L-L-Late for what?" Ithilwen shook her head and watched as the Dwarf looked past Biblo briefly. Spying Dwalin, who Ithilwen could see was trying to get more biscuits from a jar.

"Oh, ha ha! Evening, brother. Heh, heh."

"Oh, by my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." Laughing, they greet each other amicably. Putting their arms on each other's shoulders, they smash their foreheads together. Bilbo looks on in wonder as Ithilwen flinched and rubbed her own forehead. Merely imagining how much that must have hurt. If at all.

"Uh, excuse me; sorry, I hate to interrupt, ah, but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house." Ithilwen frowned as they ignored poor Bilbo. Dwalin and Balin walked into Bilbo's pantry, where they are pouring ale and examining the food. As they talk to each other, Bilbo attempts to continue his speech.

"Have you eaten?

"It's not that I don't like visitors; I-I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit, but I do like to know them before they come visiting." Dwalin and Balin, were still not listening to Bilbo as they rifled through his pantry.

"Ah, that looks very nice indeed." Balin picks up a lump of cheese. "What's this?"

"I don't know, I think it's suppose to be cheese."

"The thing is, um-"

"It's gone blue."

"It's riddled with mold." Ithilwen rolled her eyes. _It's called Blue Cheese…_ Ithilwen thought to herself. Scowling slightly as Dwalin takes the cheese and tosses it out of the pantry, past the still-speaking Bilbo.

"The thing is, um, I, I don't know either of you, not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt, but I uh, but I had to speak my mind. I'm sorry." The two Dwarves pause and look at Bilbo.

"Hm. Apology accepted." _He has no idea what apology he is even accepting!_ Ithilwen thought annoyed.

"Mm!" Bilbo nodded satisfied as Balin and Dwalin resume rummaging the pantry.

"Ah, now fill it up, brother, don't stint. I could eat again, if you insist." Balin hands a tankard to Dwalin so that it can be filled with ale. In the background, the doorbell rings again.

Abandoning the Dwarves in his pantry, Bilbo returns to the front of his house to answer the door. Only to find two young, and handsome, in Ithilwen's opinion, Dwarves standing there. Upon seeing them, Bilbo makes a small noise which sounds like a moan. "Fili."

"And Kili." The two placed a fist over their hearts and bowed as they spoke together.

"At your service." Bilbo stood there staring. As if unsure on how he should answer them. From her hiding place, Ithilwen looked the two Dwarves over. _The young Dwarf princes of Durin._ She thought, closing her eyes for a second. _These are Thorin's nephew's._

"You must be Mr. Boggins."

"Nope, you can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Bilbo tries closing the door, but Kili stops it with his foot.

"What? Has it been cancelled?" Kili asked, looking to his brother.

"No one told us."

"Can-? No-nothing's been cancelled." Bilbo said, looking between the two.

"Well, that's a relief." The young Dwarves push their way in and begin unloading their stuff onto Bilbo, whose rescued by Ithilwen taking the items from him once the Dwarves were not looking.

"Careful with these, I just had 'em sharpened." Fili warned.

"It's nice, this place. D'you do it yourself?" Kili asked as he scrapes the mud off his boots on the edge of a chest standing nearby. _Surely he taught him better than that!_

"Ah, no, it's been in the family for years." Bilbo answered, sighing with relief as Ithilwen took the weapons before spotting what Kili was doing. "That's my mother's glory box, can you please not do that?!"

"Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand." Dwalin said. Coming out to clasp kili's shoulder as he lead him along.

"Mister Dwalin." The Dwarves laugh.

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in." Ithilwen watched as the Dwarves prepare to shift Bilbo's furniture around to create a meeting/feasting place.

"Ev-everyone? How many more are there?" Ithilwen gently pulled the Hobbit aside.

"At least nine more." She answered softly. Keeping her voice low so as to not be heard by the Dwarves. Bilbo's jaw drops as he stares up at the she-elf. Before he can say anything in return, the doorbell rings very hard and longer than before. Bilbo, in anger, walks quickly toward the door.

"Oh no. No, no! There's nobody home. Go away, and bother somebody else. There's far too many Dwarves in my dining room as it is. If- if- If this is some clotterd's idea of a joke, ha ha, I can only say, it is in very poor taste." Bilbo opens the door, and eight Dwarves fall in. Struggling to get up, they grumble and yell at each other, saying "Get off!". Gandalf, who is standing behind them, bends down to peer inside the house. "Gandalf." He sighed with relief.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Unexpected Party Part 2**

 _TA 2941, 26 April_

All twelves Dwarves begin raiding Bilbo's pantry and taking out all his food. The Hobbit tries to tell them to put it back, but they ignore him. "Those are my plates! Excuse me! Not my wine. Put that back. Put that back! Not the jam, please! ...Excuse me." Bombur walks out of the pantry with three entire wheels of cheese.

"Excuse me. A tad excessive, isn't it? Have you got a cheese knife?" Bofur chuckled and looked at Bilbo with an arched brow.

"Cheese knife? He eats it by the block." Meanwhile, Oin and Gloin would walk through the hall carrying chairs from one of Bilbo's rooms. Upon seeing this, Bilbo would chase after them while demanding the chair be placed back where they got it from.

"No, no, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair! No, I'm sorry, you'll have to take it back please. Take it back...It's antique, not for sitting on! Thank you! That's a book, not a coaster. Put that map down, thank you."

"I cannot hear what you're saying!" Oin would yell above the noise to him.

The Dwarves continue bringing all of Bilbo's food and furniture into the dining room while Dori approaches Gandalf and the hooded figure who had appeared at his side with a tray and some tea. "Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf, can I tempt you or your friend with a nice cup of chamomile tea?" He asks. Ithilwen smiles softly at him.

"Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think." Dori nodded then looked up at the figure.

"Yes, thank you, Dori." She answered, surprising the Dwarf to learn it was a woman. Dori gave a nod and scurried off after pouring Ithilwen a cup of tea. Gandalf walked out of the dining room, trying to avoid the scurrying Dwarves. Ithilwen followed gracefully behind him while keeping her cup steady. Ithilwen would open her mouth to warn Gandalf of the chandelier, but would be too late and wince as he hits his head. With a cry of pain, Gandalf grumbled and then he begins counting the Dwarves on his fingers.

"Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori...Ori." He counted whilst Ithilwen sipped on her tea and watched as Bilbo wrestles a bowl of tomatoes away from Nori. Bifur, a Dwarf with an axe in his head, approaches Gandalf and talks to him in Khuzdul with body motions that Ithilwen just barely manages to understand in place of his language. "Yes, you're quite right, Bifur. We appear to be one dwarf short."

"Thorin." Ithilwen murmured to him, eyes scanning over the Dwarves.

"He is late, is all. He travelled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

"Mr. Gandalf?

"Hmmm?"

"A little glass of red wine, as requested. It's, eh, got a fruity bouquet." Dori said, handing him a rather small glass of the fruity wine.

"Ah, Cheers." Gandalf drinks the tiny cup of wine Dori offers him, then looks sadly at the cup, wanting a little more as Ithilwen masked a laugh behind her tea cup. "Mm."

The Dwarves, sitting in Bilbo's dinning room, have a grand feast with all his food. They are quite rude and messy about it as Bofur throws some food to his brother, Bombur. "Bombur, catch!" Bombur catches the food in his mouth, and everyone cheers. As everyone begins throwing food around, Bilbo walks away in disgust. He looks at his pantry in shock. It has been entirely cleared of food. Fili walks on top of the table, carrying several cups of ale and knocking aside the food in his way.

"Who wants an ale? There you go."

"Let him have another drink!"

"Here you go." Dwalin pours his ale into Oin's hearing trumpet, and as Oin splutters in anger, everyone else, including Ithilwen, laughs. Oin puts his hearing trumpet to his mouth and blows the ale out of it, making it squeak. One of the Dwarves yells, "On the count of three!" and the Dwarves pound their tankards together. Someone counts, "One!...Two!" Then all the Dwarves go quiet and begin drinking their ale together. They are incredibly messy, as ale falls all over their faces and runs down their beards. When finished drinking, they begin burping; the youngest, Ori, lets out the biggest burp. The Dwarves laugh. Bilbo and Ithilwen look away in disgust.

When the meal finishes, the Dwarves leave the table and begin walking about. Bilbo grabs a doily back from Nori. "Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!"

"But it's full of holes!"

"It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet."

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you got the balls for it." Ithilwen shook her head as a frustrated and annoyed Bilbo walked off into the hallway. Gandalf and Ithilwen following close behind him,

"Bebother and confusticate these Dwarves!"

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked.

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by Dwarves. What are they doing here?"

"They're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them." Ithilwen defended softly as Nori passed by with a chain of sausages over his shoulder. Bofur would see him and attempt to grab the sausages from him. Thus instigating a game of tug-of-war with the sausages.

"I don't want to get used to them. The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pi-pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!" Bilbo cried in his frustration. Nearly stomping his foot like a child as he looked up at Gandalf.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here you go, Ori, give it to me." Fili took the plate from Ori and threw it to Kili, who throws it behind his back to Bifur, who is standing at the sink in the kitchen. Ithilwen watched as Bifur catches it behind his back, without even looking at it. Kili, Fili, and other Dwarves began throwing the plates, bowls, and utensils to each other, eventually throwing them to the sink to be washed. As dishware flies through the air, Gandalf and Ithilwen duck to avoid getting hit.

"Oh!"

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo cried horrified. The Dwarves at the tablet begin rhythmically drumming on the tablet with utensils and their fists. "And can-can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, d'hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur teases as Kili begins singing and the other Dwarves join him, while they continue throwing the dishware.

" _Blunt the knives, bend the forks_

 _Smash the bottles and burn the corks_

 _Chip the glasses and crack the plates_

 _That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

 _Cut the cloth and tread on the fat_

 _Leave the bones on the bedroom mat_

 _Pour the milk on the pantry floor_

 _Splash the wine on every door_

 _Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl_

 _Pound them up with a thumping pole_

 _When you've finished, if any are whole_

 _Send them down the hall to roll_

 _That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

Bilbo huffs up in anger, only to find all the dishes stacked neatly and cleanly. The Dwarves and Gandalf laugh as Ithilwen stands off to the side with a bit of a smirk. Chuckling softly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Suddenly, there were three loud knocks on the Hobbits door, and everyone fell silent. "He is here."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Axe or Sword?**

 _TA 2941, 26 April_

Gandalf and Bilbo left the kitchen to answer the door, and is it opened there stood Thorin Oakenshield. Looking regal as he entered Bag End. "My lady." He nodded briefly to Ithilwen, acknowledging her presence. "Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." He said as he removed his cloak and handed it to Bilbo.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!" The Hobbit argued.

"There is a mark; I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Said Dwarven prince looked Bilbo over from head to foot.

"So, this is the Hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo asked him shocked.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Thorin clarified.

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant." Thorin looked at his company then back to Bilbo.

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The Dwarves all laughed as they walked back to the dining table. Thorin placed himself at the head of the table and was quickly served something to eat as the rest of the company talked to him.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked with a bit of hope in his voice. Thorin looked to his dearest friend.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." The dwarves murmur their joy.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Thorin shook his head.

"They will not come." The Dwarves murmured in disappointment.

"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Thorin told them as more disappointed murmurs came from the company.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked Gandalf removed what looked to be a parchment from his robe.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Nodding, Bilbo moved off to the side and took a burning candle off its stand and placed it on the table, where Gandalf has spread out the parchment, which in truth was a map, from his pocket "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo murmured, reading the map.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Gloin said, looking at everyone.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." Bilbo, hearing 'the beast,' looked around concerned.

"Uh, What beast?"

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo interrupted quickly.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie." Ithilwen felt her lips twitch up into a smile at Ori's bravery. Several Dwarves shouted in agreement.

"Sit down!" Dori scolded, pulling his brother back down into his chair.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." Ithilwen closed her eyes in slight annoyance as the Dwarves started to object at Balin's words. Saying things like, "Hey, who are you calling dim?", "Watch it!", and "No!"

"What did he say?"

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf!" Fili cried. Slamming his mug on the table.

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Ithilwen began chuckling as she glanced at Gandalf.

"Oh, well, now, uh, I-I-I wouldn't say that, I- -"

"How many, then?"

"Uh, what?" Gandalf asked, caught off guard.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!"

"Hm." Gandalf embarrassedly starts coughing on his pipe smoke as Ithilwen laughed as the Dwarves jump to their feet and began arguing about the number of dragons Gandalf has killed. Thorin, having had enough of the noise his company was causing, jumps up in anger.

" _Shazara!"_ **[Silence!]** He bellowed loudly, silencing everyone. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? _Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!_ " **[To arms! To arms!]** All the Dwarves cheered.

"You forget: the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Twiddling his fingers, Gandalf produced a Dwarvish key that was ornately wrought. Thorin looked at it in wonder as Ithilwen's eyes widened a bit.

"How came you by this?"

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf said, handing the key to Thorin as everyone looks on in wonder.

"If there is a key, there must be a door." _Obviously, Fili..._ Gandalf pointed at the runes on his map with his pipe.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in!"

"Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

"If their secrets are forgotten, even their own masters can not find them." Ithilwen whispered softly to Bilbo,. making the Hobbit cover up a snicker with a cough as he lowered his head.

"The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar."

"Hm, A good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo murmured in agreement once he had recovered.

"And are you?"

"Am I what?" Bilbo asks, blinking as he looked to Gloin.

"He said he's an expert! Hey hey!" Oin cheered as several Dwarves laugh.]

"M-Me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Bilbo nodded in agreement with Balin.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Bilbo continued nodding in agreement as the Dwarves begin arguing. Gandalf, growing angry, rises to his full height and casts a darkness over the group as he started speaking in a powerful voice that made Ithilwen close her eyes as she pushed down her fear and shied away from the darkness. The others stopped their bickering in awe.

" **ENOUGH**! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." Gandalf said as he goes back to his normal self. "Hobbits, like Elves, are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, Men, and Elves, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this."

"And what of the woman you travel with?"

"Think of me as not but an extra set of eyes." Ithilwen answered sharply.

"She can look after herself."

"Very well. We will do it your way." Thorin said after a few moments of silence.

"No, no, no." Bilbo began to plead, and Ithilwen almost felt bad that his pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Give him the contract."

"Please…." He seemed to whimper as Bofur cheered.

"Alright, we're off!" Balin would hand Bilbo a long contract.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?" As Bilbo steps back a few feet to read the contract, Thorin leans toward Gandalf and whispers to him though his words do not go unheard by Ithilwen.

"I cannot guarantee their safety."

"Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for their fate."

"Agreed."

Bilbo, unaware of the whispered words, reads parts of the contract out loud. "Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration … incineration?"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur said as he looked towards Bilbo, who was looking a little breathless.

"Huh."

"You all right, laddie?" Balin asked their host, and Ithilwen could hear the worry in the old Dwarves voice. Bilbo bent over, nauseous and pained.

"Uh, yeah...Feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings."

"Master Dwarf!" Ithilwen hissed with scolding tone.

"Air, I-I-I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain-"

"Bofur!"

" Then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bilbo breathes heavily, trying to compose himself as the gathered company stared at him with worry.

"Hmmm. Nope." Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Bilbo fell on the floor in a faint. Making Ithilwen gasp and rush to his side.

"Ah, very helpful, Bofur."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Misty Mountains**

 _TA 2941, 26 April_

After waking Bilbo with some smelling salts from Oin's bag, Ithilwen help Nori prepare camomile tea. Bilbo, who was moved to a chair in the study, held a mug of said tea as he spoke with Gandalf while Ithilwen remained standing quietly off to the side. "I'll be all right, let me just sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo said softly to the two, though he added a more assuring note while addressing Ithilwen.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves and the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps; it's out there." Ranted Gandalf. Making Ithilwen tilt her head as she imagined a much younger and more childish Bilbo running about the Shire, playing pretend as his imagination got the best of him.

"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins, of Bag End."

"You are also a Took. Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" Ithilwen arched a brow as she focused her gaze onto the portrait of who she supposed was Bullroarer Took on the study wall.

"Yes."

"Well he could. In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time."

"I do believe you made that up." Bilbo accused as Ithilwen chuckled softly. She had to admit it was a rather imaginative tale.

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment." Ithilwen finally spoke softly as she looked to Bilbo. "You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."

"Can you promise that I will come back?" There was a moment of silence before Gandalf finally answered.

"No. And if you do, you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit." Bilbo set down his now empty mug and walked away down the hall. Gandalf and Ithilwen sighs as they watch him walk away.

Balin and Thorin, who had been quietly chatting in the hall, also gave a sigh as they see Bilbo walking away. "It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin argued with a brief smile.

"Old warriors." Balin said modestly.

"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor." Thorin held out the key Gandalf gave him.

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

"Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done." As they nod and clasp shoulders, the Dwarves gather in Bilbo's living room. Smoking their pipes by the fire, they all begin humming a haunting tune that seemed to memorize Ithilwen, and soon Thorin began to sing.

" _Far over the misty mountains cold._

 _To dungeons deep and caverns old_

 _We must away ere break of day_

 _To find our long-forgotten gold."_

The others soon joined him as Gandalf listens from nearby and Bilbo listens from his bedroom.

" _The pines were roaring on the height_

 _The winds were moaning in the night_

 _The fire was red, it flaming spread_

 _The trees like torches blazed with light..."_


End file.
